


Pigeonhole

by Sealie



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 05:52:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5236742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sealie/pseuds/Sealie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I don’t want to be pigeonholed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pigeonhole

**Author's Note:**

> Comments:  
> 1) British English spelling  
> 2) AU fusion  
> 3) Spoilers: none  
> Beta: wonderful Springwoof was kind enough to add her valuable insights and edits  
> Disclaimer: writing for fun not for profit.

**Pigeonhole**  
By Sealie 

 

“Your dæmon hasn’t settled, Steve.” Danny’s mouth fell open. His mind whirled, flabbergasted. “How is that even remotely possible?” 

Bran had back flipped off Steve’s shoulder, transforming mid-flip from the familiar Capuchin Monkey into a tiny, iridescent bird, flying fast. Danny could barely identify the type. Humming bird, was his closest guess. The dæmon flittered out of sight, high up into the dusk-darkened foliage above their heads. 

“Holy cow.” Apolla, Danny’s raven, took a surprised dump on Danny’ shoulder. The aether dissipated without staining within moments of settling on his torn and grubby shirt. 

Danny looked from the sky to Steve, and then back to the sky, and finally to stare at his partner of six freakin’ years. Steve’s dæmon had _changed_. 

Steve knuckled the pained knot between his eyebrows. He slumped against the tree trunk by Danny's side. More important matters than the incomprehensible came to the forefront, shouldering away Danny’s shock. 

“You said that you were feeling all right!” Danny shrieked. “You’ve got a concussion, haven’t you?” 

“Danny,” Steve growled, “will you shut up? Try to remember the hunting party on our heels.” 

“Well, _excuse me_ ,” Danny hissed back at him. “It’s not every day your entire world view is changed. You’re thirty six. Dæmons settle at puberty. Last time I checked you had hair on your chest.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh, you know what I mean.” Danny shot back. They didn’t have time for their normal innuendo and pseudo-flirting. “It doesn’t happen.” 

“Clearly, it does. Hence, Bran,” Steve said snottily. 

“Why a monkey? Out of all things that you could pick him to show the world, you chose a monkey.” 

“Jesus.” Steve pushed off the tree. He caught Danny’s shoulder, half for balance and half to push Danny down the trail. “Monkeys are intelligent.”

“And idiots infer that you’re intelligent then.” 

“I am intelligent,” Steve said easily. The hair on the side of his head was matted with blood, but it no longer flowed. Intelligent people shouldn’t get thumped as much as Steve did. 

“It’s unusual that Bran’s male, I can only imagine that made people speculate and wonder about you.” Danny shored up Steve’s side, circling an arm around his narrow waist. Apolla mantled on Danny’s opposite shoulder. “I can only imagine what people would make of him not settling.”

“I think that you’re providing an example for my admittedly small sample of people who know.” 

“Who knows?” Danny asked immediately. 

“Aunt Deb,” was Steve’s only offering. 

“One person in the entire world? Not even Mary?” Danny asked. 

Apolla squeezed his shoulder with her claws, chastisingly. 

“Seriously, Danny. Now is not the time.” 

Danny was never camping with Steve ever again. Trouble magnet was a label that fitted Steve perfectly. An innocent, relaxing overnight trip he had promised – beers, steak and a companionable fire. The fact that they were going to another of his favourite places should have ticked one of the check boxes on Danny’s list of _things which add up to a complete and utter nightmare_. 

Camping next to an illegal ice lab. Was there any other kind of ice lab, he wondered? It behoved them as investigators on the Governor of Hawaii’s task force to investigate such an occurrence. There had, however, been seven—or even more—goons at the shack. They had interrupted a pick-up of the product. There had been a lot of shooting, capture, ropes and tying up. A modicum of rough housing and then, helpfully, the Ice idiots had locked them in a basement storeroom. Steve had ninjaed them out in about thirty seconds. It had been very embarrassing being bench lifted up to the narrow window tucked up by the ceiling. 

“Not even Cath?”

“Danny,” Steve said exasperated. 

“You planned on asking her to marry you.” You didn’t ask people to marry you who didn’t know the most basic fact about your entire existence. 

“It never came up.” Steve flashed a grin at him, which looked strangely endearing despite the mask of blood streaked across his face. 

“Never came up,” Danny echoed. “Unbelievable.” 

The degree of control was monumental. Danny could remember being a kid. Apolla had switched between every animal under the sun following the flitter of his thoughts and emotions. She had never stayed still. Did Bran still want to flip and Steve fought it every single second of the day or had he decided on just a few favourite shapes and couldn’t choose. Over his thirteenth year Apolla had only flittered between her final choice, the raven, a golden retriever and a red, chittering squirrel (which confused everyone). 

The tiny iridescent humming bird came back and hovered before them as they picked their way down the trail. 

“There are five behind you. Hundred yards. Heavily armed.” Bran shimmered, transforming to a raven mid-stroke. He dropped an arm length, stretched out his wings and glided away, with a caw. 

“What a bitch,” Apolla said. She lifted off and chased into the sky after Bran. 

“Bran can still be anything he wants to be?” Danny asked, hauling Steve in a little closer. Unbelievable. 

“Like we were ever going to give up swimming with dolphins or running the trails of Kāne‘ohe or sky diving,” Steve said easily, and honestly. “SEALS: Sea, Air and Land.” 

“It can’t be that simple,” Danny muttered breathlessly. Steve was a heavy mother fucker. 

Steve stumbled, and would have gone to his knees without Danny’s hold. He was a suddenly heavy weight. They had to stop if only for a moment. 

“We’ve got to find a place to hole up.” Breathing harshly, Danny looked back up the trail, footsteps were clear in the mud, even as night started to fall. “Girl Scouts could track us.” 

“The scouts in Gracie’s troop are very competent.” 

“How hard did you get your bell wrung?” Danny asked. 

“Double vision. But at least it’s consistent double vision,” Steve admitted. 

Danny eeled around Steve, peering up at his changeable eyes. Thankfully, his pupils were equal. A little too pin-prick under the sole illumination of the moon high in the night sky; Danny put that down to the concussion. 

“The road’s that way.” Steve brought his hand up like a blade, indicating an angle off the path. 

“Wrong,” Danny said. They had scoped out the area before going to check the lab. Danny might not be the greatest woodsman in the universe. But the bank of razor-like hills on their right were still on the right, and no road passed through those hills. The road was ahead of them, and the ocean was on their left. 

“What?” Steve blinked at him owlishly and wavered. 

“Concussion.” Danny would have bopped him between the eyes, but he had already been hit too many times today. “Your brain’s not working right.” 

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Steve said with just a little too much honesty 

“It’s okay, Babe. I actually like the way your brain works.” 

“I know, that’s why Bran showed you. And the head injury,” Steve said candidly. 

Bran cawed, dropping from the sky. In between blinks, the raven switched to a stubby black bear hitting the ground with nary a thump. 

“Come on.” Bran shifted his shoulders, the invitation plain. 

“Hey, Steve, you get to ride a bear today.” 

“Huh, cool.” Steve let Danny help him straddle his dæmon. There was a definitely greenish cast to his pale face. 

Danny had to steady his partner, arm curling around his waist, hip pushed against Bran. The sensation of touching Steve’s dæmon was as warm and as comforting as a hug. The innocent warmth was reminiscent of the few, unavoidable times that he had had to comfort Grace and her dæmon when she had been very small. Steve flashed his endearing grin as he carded his fingers through the coarse fur of Bran’s ruff. 

“Let’s get off the trail,” Danny said, weirdly dry mouthed. The change in tracks should confuse their pursuers. He was pretty sure that there was no bears on ‘Oahu. 

Bear Bran was surprisingly light-footed, but then again the dæmons didn’t obey the laws of physics. 

“Can you not do a horse?” Danny asked pragmatically.

“I can do a smaller bear longer and more solidly.” Bran hoofed along fast enough to make Danny break out into a trot. 

And in every second of every step he took as he supported Steve, and leaned against Bran, he felt as if he was cherishing his own dæmon.

Steve sunk low across his dæmon’s back. The greenish cast had paled. Danny could tell that he was clinging to consciousness with tooth and fingers clenched. 

“Follow.” Apolla glided past them, sable feathers barely visible in the murk. “They’re close.” 

“They went this way!” a voice yelled behind them. 

Too close for comfort, heavy bodies clattered through the jungle. The strobe of a flashlight briefly illuminated a tree behind them as the thugs widely cast about. A hound bayed; Shit, one of them had a hunting dæmon.

“Get on,” Bran grated. 

“What?” Danny asked automatically, although he understood the instruction. 

“Climb on my back,” Bran said clearly. 

Danny didn’t have a clue how this was going to work, but he didn’t hesitate further, slinging his leg over Bran’s back. Bears, he knew, courtesy of Grace’s homework, could run pretty fast. He curled over Steve, framing him with his body, and scooping his hands to grasp the fur of Bran’s shoulders. 

Bran shuddered and changed. Danny wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t felt it under his hands and seen it with his own eyes. Bran stretched out, forelegs extending to morph into giant reptilian wings. His snout elongated and spiral horns grew. The back under them lengthened further and further. Bran shivered out a tail longer than his body decorated with delicate fin-like sails. 

Roaring, Bran launched himself into the sky, breathing a rush of flame. 

“Holy shit, you’re a dragon!” 

Bran’s wings beat once and he soared over the tree tops. A beat of his wings, and they travelled a football field length at a time, leaving the drug runners far, far behind. 

Danny laughed out loud. 

“A dragon!” he sang out. 

Why couldn’t everyone do this? The memories of Apolla when they had been small came back, the joy of _change_. He had never flown a dragon, though. Still, childhood had been magical. 

“Concentrating,” Bran grated. And Steve had gone silent. 

The rush of wind in his hair was invigorating. Bran was only yards above the tree canopy, wings brushing the tree tops with every down sweep. The strain was unmistakable in the building shivers in his muscles and sinew. They needed more height to fly safely, but Danny kind of got the rapidly increasing impression that this was a very temporary thing. 

“Going down….” 

The abrupt swoop down was stomach flipping. Bran was shifting and changing under them -- mass bleeding away into flashes of golden aether. The dæmon disappeared, and they fell. Danny tried to roll, but he was tangled up in Steve, and they could only thump down. Something gave way beneath them, and they were entangled in fabric. For a moment Danny simply breathed, Steve curled at his side. And then abruptly galvanised, Danny fought with material and rods. Finally, he found his feet. 

“I don’t believe it! You dropped us on _my_ tent.” They were back at their campsite. 

“Good thing you refused to bivouac,” Apolla said dropping down next to the decimated tent. 

“Steve!” 

Steve was deathly pale under the illumination of the moonlight. His eyes were closed and he was silent. He still breathed. 

“Thank god.” Danny managed to manhandle Steve onto his back. He flopped, unconscious, limbs splaying out. “Can you see, Bran?” 

“Here,” Apolla muttered. A tiny mouse hung from her beak by its tail. 

“Shit.” Carefully, Danny got his hands under the mouse. Apolla released Bran onto his cupped palms. The weight was lighter than a single feather. Stunned for a heartbeat, Danny found motion, and dropped the exhausted dæmon into his shirt pocket. 

“Danny?” Steve groaned. 

“Hey, Babe? Can you sit up? We’re back at our campsite. Let’s get our SUV and get the Hell out of here, and call the cavalry.” 

“Okay?” Steve said brightly, obviously as disorientated as fuck. 

Danny got a shoulder under him, and levered Steve to a semblance of standing. As if in an insane three legged race, they weaved towards Steve’s truck. Danny got him in the passenger side and firmly buckled in. 

“I can drive,” Steve said. 

“Not up for argument.” Danny slammed the door shut on him, ending the discussion, and beetled around to the driver seat. 

Apolla swooped by his head, and landed on the seat between them, perching by the handbrake. 

Danny flipped down the sun visor and the keys dropped onto his lap. 

“Bran,” Apolla said. 

“Whoops.” Conscious that he was touching Steve’s dæmon, even if it was so very, very strangely neutral and comforting, he teased the field mouse out of his chest pocket. “Here, Steve.” 

Automatically, Steve cupped his hands, taking Bran into his hold. The dæmon shivered and transformed into the familiar monkey, to curl into Steve’s arms. Steve leaned his head against the headrest and simply breathed. 

Danny fired up the engine and peeled out of the campsite as if the drug runners were right on his heels. The back wheels fishtailed across the grass, and then they were on the trail and driving away as fast as he dared. Gravel crunched beneath their tyres. The headlights illuminated the tall trees on either side of the trail as they rushed by. Danny flicked on the high beams, and felt like he surfed all the way to the main road at the bottom of the mountain. He breathed a sigh of relief as they turned left onto tarmac, promising a real road. 

“You gonna explain?” Danny asked into the silence as the SUV picked up speed, and in the far distance he could see the electric lights of civilisation. 

“Explain what?” Steve asked quietly. 

“Bran? You?” 

“Nothing to explain,” Steve said easily, “we are what we are. I guess that if you need an explanation: we never grew up.” 

_**fin** _


End file.
